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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29691606">Will It Be Worth It?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/temporaryistemporary/pseuds/temporaryistemporary'>temporaryistemporary</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>a chosen family [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Child Neglect, Enderman Hybrid Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Hopeful Ending, I am both a techno apologist and a Tommy apologist, I don’t like that some of these tags have their names, Mentioned Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Eret (Video Blogging RPF), Philza is a bad dad, Piglin Hybrid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Resurrected Wilbur Soot, Shapeshifter Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Techno is not Phil’s son, Technoblade Hears Voices (Video Blogging RPF), Technosoft, Tommys real name is Theseus, Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), and that is all Techno calls him, but he won’t admit it, but he’s maybe starting to realize it, c!Philza really just dropped a baby off with his son and dipped, he is a family friend, the voices like Tommy, they both fucked up a little, this is about the characters not the people</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:20:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,284</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29691606</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/temporaryistemporary/pseuds/temporaryistemporary</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Technoblade and Philza reflect on the past and of family, and think perhaps it’s time move forward.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>No Romantic Relationship(s), Technoblade &amp; Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot &amp; Phil Watson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>a chosen family [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2119869</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>310</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Completed stories I've read</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. How do I start?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was obvious that Philza had a lot on his mind, ever since Wilbur was resurrected. He would pace around the land near the cottage, tending to the farm and other chores, a furrow in his brow and a look in his eye that Techno knew meant the man hadn’t been sleeping well.</p><p>Techno couldn’t say he hadn’t been surprised when Phil had returned to the cabin so soon after bringing his eldest son back to life, without Wilbur in tow. He had assumed his friend would want to stick around, to make sure Wil got settled, but Phil had reasoned that his son most likely would be uncomfortable around him, what with the winged man being the cause of his death. And Techno supposed that was fair, he had done the same with Tubbo for a while, after the mess that was the Manberg Festival.</p><p>And then Phil had gone off to Eret’s castle, where Wilbur had been staying, and had returned even more distressed than last time. Techno, not being good at dealing with others emotions, had just watched as the man threw himself back into his previous tasks, mumbling to himself, and his damaged wings twitching in an agitated sort of way. He had never seen his friend in such a state.</p><p>Phil had always been calm and collected, cracking jokes in even the worst of situations while still being poised and ready to fight for his life. It was expected after all, the older man wouldn’t have gotten so far in so many hardcore worlds if he couldn’t hold his own. Techno was glad to have such a capable and powerful ally and eventual friend. They had grown close, fighting many battles and exploring new realms, whenever the man was around, and he had been confident he knew nearly everything there was to know about Philza, with how much time they had spent together.</p><p>So one could imagine his surprise when Phil had invited Techno back to his own base one day, with the intention of grabbing some extra supplies for another adventure. Techno hadn’t even known the winged man had his own place, having assumed the other was a wanderer, like himself. Though, he supposed he did have his Hypixel farms to return to in times of need, so it would make sense that Philza would have his own place of refuge.</p><p>He definitely hadn’t expected there to be a child there, however.</p><p>The kid was skinny, he noted, not unhealthily so, but he lacked muscle and he didn’t hold himself like a warrior, not like Techno had taught himself to do when he was younger. He wondered briefly why Phil didn’t bring the boy (<em>Wilbur </em>, the voices reminded) along with him, teach him to fight and such, and dismissed the idea just as quickly. He wouldn’t want to be stuck babysitting him and making sure the child didn’t get himself killed. Wilbur didn’t speak much, only offering a small hello after Techno’s awkward greeting, and retreating up the stairs. They left not long after, and Techno glanced back one last time at the house to see a shadow in the upstairs window, watching them as they disappeared back to the Hub.</p><p>Techno hadn’t noticed until after the visit to Philza’s residence, but the man didn’t really talk about his son much. There were a few comments here and there that he now recognized as a reference to the kid or the house, but they were vague and hard to catch sometimes. He didn’t even call the boy by name most of the time. Maybe it was a protection thing, he mused, to keep potential threats from going after the man’s family.</p><p>(Some of the voices thought otherwise, whispering vitriol and pointed insults at the winged man that Techno ignored, until they inevitably forgot about the child altogether, and went back to demanding blood.)</p><p>He couldn’t say he wasn’t curious, though. Techno had known Philza for a long time, certainly longer than Wilbur had been alive, so where the hell had he come from? Yes, Phil had the tendency to disappear for a bit, but he had thought the other was off exploring on his own while Techno was busy fighting in tournaments, not shacking up and having a kid. In the end, he decided it was none of his business, and put any thought about Phil’s personal life out of his mind, ignoring any stray voices that would occasionally wonder after the boy’s health.</p><p>That became harder to do when he came across a screaming infant left in the back room of the church of an abandoned village he and Phil had been ransacking. The thing was tiny, with wispy blonde hair, resting in a woven basket with thin, woolen blankets. He winced at the shrieks it was letting out, moving closer to inspect the child for injuries, pondering if he would need to put it out of its misery. The baby quieted as Techno approached, which was odd considering he was in his piglin form and children tended to be terrified of him. But this child just stared as he neared, leaning over and seeing no blood or injury, other than a bit of ash and tear tracks on its cheeks. It even squealed happily, seeming to forget what it had been so upset about, and reaching out its tiny hands as if to-</p><p><em> No</em>. No. Definitely not.</p><p>He left the room, ignoring the babbling that followed him, and swiftly exited the church, nearly running into Phil in his haste.</p><p>“Woah, mate, what’s happened?”</p><p>“There’s a baby in there,” Techno huffed, stepping further away from the building.</p><p>His friend's wings puffed up in surprise as his eyes darted to look at the chapel. “<em>What?</em>”</p><p>“I don’t know how else I’m supposed to say it, Phil. There’s a baby in the church.”</p><p>“And they’re <em> alive</em>?”</p><p>Techno hummed in answer and watched as the man rushed past him, ducking under the lopsided door frame. He returned not a moment later, with the basket held in one hand, cooing soft, bird-like calls in response to the infant's noises.</p><p>“What are you going to do with it?”</p><p>Phil’s head snapped up at the question, tilting in a pondering motion. “I suppose we could try some of the other towns for their parents?”</p><p>Techno raised a brow at the man, eyeing him skeptically. “Phil,” he started, “the kid was in the back room of a building that looks like it’s been falling apart for a while now, I don’t think whoever left it here is gonna want it back.”</p><p>The other’s face soured, and they left the village. They did end up stopping by some smaller towns on the way, at Phil’s insistence (with Techno shifting to his more human form, so as to not frighten the locals). As far as anyone could tell them, they knew nothing of a family with a missing child, nor anyone who had recently had a baby that was now unaccounted for. So that left Phil cradling the small bundle in his arms as he fed him (the tiny thing was a boy, as Philza had discovered when he had to change the child’s dust covered clothing), and Techno, incredibly out of his depth, holding the now child-free basket that had been filled with formula and other baby things, thanks to some of the kinder residents of the last village.</p><p>“Are you sure you want to keep it?” Techno asked, eyeing the baby with visible disgust as milk dribbled down his chin.</p><p>Phil rolled his eyes, chuckling at the reaction. “Yes, I’m sure. I’m not just going to drop him off for some black market seller to snatch up. You know how fucked up people can be, Tech.” He nodded stiffly, the scar just under his chin burning at the thought. “Besides, I think Wil would do well with a younger brother. He was always sweet with the kids when I would have to take him into town. I just need to figure out a name for the little guy.”</p><p>As if he knew they were talking about him, the baby squealed, chubby hands knocking the bottle away from his face, and giggling as Phil’s feathers fluffed behind him. Techno’s lip curled as the child’s eyes locked on his, crystal blue and reminiscent of the ocean. “Theseus.” The name fell from Techno’s mouth before he could stop it, the voices murmuring little praises and flattery that the child would never hear. Phil raised an eyebrow at him, a grin playing on lips, and Techno held in the urge to punch it off his face. “What? He looks like a Theseus,” he snapped.</p><p>They both looked down as the baby continued to babble on, stringing together sounds incessantly and blowing spit bubbles, snickering to himself when they popped.</p><p>Philza laughed, bouncing the bundle in his arms, “Alright, mate, if you say so.”</p><p>Techno didn’t go with Phil back to his home, instead returning to Hypixel to check on his farms. He stayed there, on his farms, or participating in tournaments for over three months, almost four, until Philza contacted him again, ready to head out once more.</p><p>They had a short conversation in the center of the Hub, Techno telling his friend it wouldn’t offend him if he needed more time to watch after his kids, and Phil assuring him that they would be fine, he had made sure they would be okay on their own, and that he needed to get out and stretch his wings a bit. Even still, they worked up to it, fleeting trips turning into longer and longer expeditions, until they were back up to their normal adventuring. Phil would make slightly more frequent trips back to the house, but they were still months in between, and Techno would decline almost every invitation to come with, only really going when one or both of them needed medical supplies, or when his friend would pester him until he agreed.</p><p>Wilbur seemed a little happier, the next he saw him, and he always held tight to the growing child in his arms. Techno wasn’t sure if he had ever seen him put the kid down, except once when they had shown up during the toddlers nap. It was strange, showing up to Philza’s house and seeing the little infant they had found in the ruins to be so much bigger and more adept at moving.</p><p>He had to hold himself back from skewering the toddling child with his sword, when the kid had suddenly held himself on wobbling feet to tug at Techno’s cape. Theseus was staring at him with those blue eyes again, like the child remembered him, and he had glanced around for one of the house’s residents, bewildered, only to find them nowhere in sight. He guessed Phil must’ve dragged Wilbur off to help him look for something, leaving him with the kid. <em> Great</em>.</p><p>Techno murmured a stiff greeting to the child, feeling a little stupid when the younger only babbled and giggled back at him. He was a warrior, okay, he was not equipped to handle children. But that didn’t seem to stop Theseus, as the little imp ran a clumsy hand through the fur on his cloak, gripping it in fistfuls and tugging. Techno slowly kneeled down, untangling the pudgy fingers to prevent the kid from ripping out any chunks, only to realize Theseus had now latched onto his gloved hands, cooing and staring at the pink braid falling over his shoulder. He grimaced, the voices shouting over each other, some yelling at him to scoop the toddler up (<em>gross</em>), others telling him to call for Phil to deal with him, and a small portion wanting him to just drop kick the little cretin.</p><p>Techno ignored all of them, somehow managing to slip his hands out of the leather, and watching as Theseus, no longer having anything to hold onto, toppled backwards to sit on the floor. He had expected the child to cry at the sudden fall, but all he had done was laugh, squeezing the gloves in his fists and waving them around like a toy. The kid seemed delighted at the new objects and Techno was perfectly okay to let him keep them, so long as he didn’t try and bother him again. Later, after they had left, Techno shrugged off all of Phil’s questions about where his gloves had gone, claiming he must have lost them at some point, and no, Philza, he hadn’t been wearing them today, he must be going senile. His lip twitched upwards when the man playfully squawked at the comment, swatting him upside the head with his wing.</p><p>Techno really shouldn’t have been that surprised when he followed Phil to his house one day to find another child running around the front garden with Phil’s youngest. His name was Tubbo, apparently, or at least that was what Theseus had yelled when the other had tackled him to the ground. This was confirmed when Wilbur peeked his head out the door upon their arrival, calling the two in for lunch (he still didn’t understand why he called the youngest boy <em> Tommy</em>). He pondered asking Phil where this one had come from, but dismissed it when the man had only strayed further into the house, assuring he’d be right back.</p><p>“Hi Technoblade!” A teeny voice called from the kitchen, and he turned to see the blonde boy waving at him enthusiastically.</p><p>“Hello Theseus.” He greeted back, seeing the new child’s face scrunch in confusion, and nodding once in Wilbur’s direction, getting a smile and a nod in return.</p><p>“Have you met Tubbo?” Theseus squeaked out, grabbing the other boy’s hand.</p><p>Techno shook his head, some of the stray hairs from his messy braid falling into his face. “I haven’t. Hello Tubbo.”</p><p>The kid was staring at him, eyes wide, but not from fright. “Hello Tech-no-blade,” Tubbo said, stumbling over his name.</p><p>And that was that. The children quickly went back to eating, and Philza had walked back into the main room, calling a goodbye and ushering him out of the house. They had work to do.</p><p>They had shown up another time after a long battle, rather late in the night by the time Phil dragged him inside, before allowing Techno to fall onto the couch and quietly digging through chests for spare potion ingredients, his wings twinging behind him, and Techno’s leg spasming painfully. They had been ambushed by raiders twice, and had come out a little worse for wear, and low on supplies.</p><p>Techno leaned his head back into the cushions, closing his eyes and hearing Phil’s faint steps disappearing into another room. He had figured the other occupants of the house would’ve been asleep at this time of night, so he was startled when something poked his limp arm, eyes snapping open to see another child, one a little older than he knew both Theseus and Tubbo to be, with fox-like traits. The kid was looking at him with faintly glowing eyes, ears twitching at every noise.</p><p>“You’re Technoblade,” he whispered.</p><p>Even more odd. Usually people that knew who he was tended to avoid him. This house’s residents would never cease to confuse him.</p><p>“And who are you?” Techno grumbled out, watching him shuffle in place.</p><p>“Fundy,” the kid answered. “Tommy talks about you a lot.” Ah, that explained it.</p><p>He grunted in response, unsure of what else to say.</p><p>Fundy fidgeted again, tail swaying, and muttering a, “Goodnight, Mr. Technoblade,” before scurrying off to where he assumed the kid’s room to be before he got caught out of bed.</p><p>What unusual children.</p><p>(They weren’t all bad, though Techno would never admit it, in his head or out loud, lest the voices caught wind and teased him for being soft. He wasn’t. Even if he sat with the three youngest and told them of his adventures and battles while Phil or Wilbur were busy. He wasn’t soft. The kids just talked less if he was telling a story, that was all.)</p><p>The house was eerie when it was quiet. Techno, for as little time as he spent there, had grown used to the sound of Wilbur bustling around, or of little feet running across the floor, or of childish, shrieking laughter echoing across the house. So when they showed up one weekend to an empty house (one that hadn’t looked like it had been lived in for a good while), Techno could only stand to be in there for a moment, before he stepped back outside, being greeted with the sound of farm animals and birds chirping. It was strange.</p><p>He hadn’t seen the kids again until he was being welcomed into Pogtopia by Wilbur and Theseus, both of whom had looked as exhausted as Phil was looking now, bags under their eyes, and requesting his help, which he had readily given.</p><p>And so, when Phil had come to him, eyes tired but with a glimmer of something so familiar in them, he had happily gone along with the idea for a base in the stronghold. He knew it was just another project for his friend to throw himself at to distract himself, but that was fine. Techno didn’t expect others to cope with their emotions in healthy ways, when he himself had the same trouble doing so. So if a distraction was what Phil needed, then he would help where he could. It was actually kind of fun, even if Techno, of all people, had to drag Phil back to the cabin to rest.</p><p>He wasn’t sure what to make of it when Ranboo had disappeared.</p><p>The snow had been pretty bad one night when they had trudged back to the cabin, and Techno had considered asking the enderman hybrid if he would want to spend the night in the house. He knew the kid was basically living in a shack, and it would do nothing to protect him from the harsh winds, and neither would the carved out room in the ground, which, arguably, might be even worse. The little hole under his house that Theseus had been staying in was always freezing, and Techno would bet that Ranboo’s basement, if one could even call it that, was much the same.</p><p>But the kid wasn’t there, and there were several chests left open and items thrown about, which wasn’t exactly unusual for the hybrid. They would often come back to find the younger boy cleaning up after messes such as these, so Techno had figured he had gone off in a fever again, and would return by the following day.</p><p>Except he didn’t. And when Techno had gone into the main lands of the SMP, he had seen Ranboo walking out of the castle, being ushered along by the ex-president and his previously exiled friend. They were all laughing as they walked off in an unfamiliar direction (maybe one of them had made another base out there?), and Techno let them be. Ranboo had, after all, said he was loyal to people, not sides. And as long as they weren’t starting more governments, he wouldn’t interfere with the kid wanting to hang out with his friends.</p><p>(<em>Hypocrite</em>, one of the louder voices screeched, <em> fool</em>.</p><p><em> Theseus, Tommy</em>, the rest cried, dissolving into unintelligible muttering.)</p><p>He really wasn’t sure why the voices were always so fixated on the kid. They always spoke of him, even before he had met up with Wilbur and him on the SMP, only growing louder after the fact. They had called for him, speaking directly at the boy as if he could hear them too. When the time had come to release the withers, some had even screamed in protest, cooing sadly at the absolutely wrecked look on Theseus’ face as he watched Wilbur die at the hands of Phil (they were easy to ignore though, as the majority chanted, <em> Blood for the Blood God</em>).</p><p>They were blissfully silent about the child following that fiasco, allowing Techno to have a bit of reprieve to build a home for himself in the arctic and declaring himself retired. And then the Butcher Army and his ‘execution’ came and went and they were back at it again, shouting something about raccoons and a thief. Which was ridiculous because who would steal from Technoblade, of all people?</p><p>Only Theseus. Of course.</p><p>The voices had shouted excitedly when he had found the child hiding under his house, some requesting that Techno give the boy a <em> hello </em> from them, which he didn’t do, for obvious reasons. Others warned him of the masked man, cursing his name and calling for his head on a stake. That was a normal occurrence however, they had never particularly liked Dream, so he had dismissed those, thinking them unrelated to the situation with Theseus.</p><p>(<em>Fool</em>, the loud voice repeated.)</p><p>He had been <em> pissed </em> when Theseus had chosen L’Manberg, again, and so had the voices (though some had seemed amused, <em> Tommy &amp; Tubbo</em>, they sang, <em> Theseus &amp; Aeneas</em>). How many times would that child let that country, <em> that government</em>, hurt him and still go running back? It didn’t make sense. But it didn’t matter, in the end, because it was gone, blown to dust all the way down to bedrock. There was no fixing that, any of it.</p><p>Even as a small part of him, whether it was actually him or the voices was unclear, wanted to find Theseus and drag him off somewhere so they could talk privately. They had both screwed up, many times, along the way to where they were now. And so had Phil, for that matter, and Techno could see it in the man’s eyes that he knew it, too.</p><p>They all had reasons to apologize, and things to make up for, and, after watching a resurrected Wilbur interact with the kids from the sidelines, he felt an unfamiliar pang in his chest. If the man who blew up their country after they won it back the first time could be forgiven and try to be better, then why couldn’t he? Why couldn’t Phil?</p><p>Techno knew right where he needed to start.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>so I wanted to give c!Tubbo a name from a greek myth because I already associate c!Tommy, c!Techno, c!Wilbur, and kind of c!Philza with one, and I went searching because I hadn’t seen anyone give him one and I found Aeneas<br/>and, long story short, Aeneas was a defender of Troy who survived the Trojan War, even after his city was destroyed, and he escaped and founded a new kingdom<br/>I just thought it fit Tubbo the best out of some the myths I looked through, especially since he left what was left L’Manberg after it was destroyed and made Snowchester</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. What do I do?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>*WARNING* - child neglect, blood &amp; injury, Wilbur’s death</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Phil could admit, looking back on his past actions, that he wasn’t the best dad. In all honesty he didn’t know how to be. It had been something forced upon him, without any warning and only a card pinned to a baby blanket.</p><p>The child was called Wilbur and he had been left on Phil’s doorstep (he should count his lucky stars he was home) with a letter in a language long forgotten, and Phil knew instantly where he had come from.</p><p>Phil had looked down at the baby, at his tiny brown curls, and warm dark eyes, and was reminded of a woman he had met on his trips, beautiful and funny and ethereal. They met many times, some just a little too well timed to be accidental, and Phil had fallen rather quickly. He hadn’t heard from her in quite some time and she had never mentioned anything like this, but he couldn’t deny it when teeny fingers reached out to grab Phil’s nose, the same shaped one sitting on the child’s own face.</p><p>Wilbur was his entire world. Phil would often find himself letting the child run his tiny hands over his face or hair as Wilbur giggled out little bubbles, or he would do the farm chores with the baby firmly attached to his hip, one wing circled around him. He taught Wilbur to talk and then to read and then to write, a proud smile on his face when the kid would even attempt to mimic Phil’s bird noises, chirping in a way that sounded distinctively hatchling-like. And, as a reward for doing well in his studies, he would scoop the growing child up and take him on flights near their home, powerful wings sending them up up <em> up</em>, and then falling into trick after trick all the way down until Wilbur was a whooping and giggling mess. He loved his son.</p><p>But there was a burning tension in his soul, in his wings, where they itched and twitched to break out and just <em> go</em>. Phil never liked to sit in one place for too long, even when working on long projects he was constantly moving between building and gathering supplies so as not to burn out on one activity. And here, in this small house where he had to go outside to fully stretch his wings and even then they fluttered with the need to run, he felt trapped, stuck, in need of some kind of adventure.</p><p>It started out with small things; a half day trip to a far off market, or an all day excavation in the Nether. He left Wilbur at home each time, leaving the child with enough food for his absence and telling him to be safe. Wilbur would nod every time, a serious look in his eye like Philza had given him a very important task, and he supposed he had, in a way. It was very important for Phil to know if Wilbur would be able to take care of himself, should he leave for long periods of time. Not that wanted to be gone for too long, no. But sometimes adventures don’t always go as expected, and they may require extra time to figure it all out.</p><p>It took less time than Phil thought, to be able to trust Wilbur enough to be left alone for a while, but soon he was able to meet up with Techno again, picking up on their adventures like they hadn’t stopped in the first place. And of course he would return home from time to time, checking in on his son and restocking their food supply if needed. Wilbur had even picked up on some of the farm chores, collecting eggs from the hens and milking the cows. Phil was so proud of him.</p><p>Tommy (<em>Theseus</em>, a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Technoblade grumbled) was... different. The child was <em>so</em> <em>small</em> when they found him, looking like a porcelain doll as Techno reluctantly cradled him in his humanoid form while some of the townspeople handed over baby supplies to Philza. He hadn’t been able to find the boy’s parents and he couldn’t, in good conscience, leave the child somewhere he could get snatched by someone much worse than Phil (and arguably worse than the Blood God). So he took him home, watching blankly as Wilbur gently brought the baby into his own arms, eyes shining.</p><p>He wondered if it was really such an odd thing, to not feel an attachment to the baby. His son was immediately enamored with the tiny thing, and even Techno had held a different kind of look in his eyes when he mumbled out a name for the child. Phil didn’t know what to think of him yet, only that he hadn’t wanted to leave Tommy in a chapel to get torn to shreds by zombies or drop him off in a village for some sick fuck to do… <em> something</em>. Sure, he had comforted the little tyke and played with him a bit to keep him distracted but he hadn’t brought the baby home out of some parental instinct. He was only here because it was the more practical choice, the safest choice. Perhaps eventually he would grow fond of the kid.</p><p>And he wasn’t cold to Tommy, not at all, just a bit reserved. He would bring both of the boys trinkets from his travels, a book or some odd thing for Wilbur, and a plushie for Tommy, dropping the little toy into the child’s lap and watching as he burbled happily at the thing. When the boy grew older, and Phil had come home a little worse for wear, the kid had quietly asked if could help fix his feathers. It had been far too late in the night for Tommy to have been awake, and Phil should have sent him back to bed. But, as he stared at the boy's crystal blue eyes and watched him fidget in a way that was so <em> Wilbur</em>, he decided against it, patting the spot next to him and spending the next few hours teaching Tommy how to preen his wings. The kid was surprisingly gentle, for how rambunctious he was, and later Phil found himself petting through Tommy’s blonde hair after he tucked him back into bed, cooing under his breath and watching him relax further into sleep.</p><p>Phil couldn’t remember precisely when the other two had appeared, only that he had come home and suddenly there was a child Tommy’s age, and then later one a little bit older. Tubbo and Fundy. The younger boy often gave Phil odd, contemplative looks, far too intense for such a childish face, while the older one seemed intent on asking him or Techno any amount of questions he could about their travels. They were a strange bunch, but Wilbur seemed happier with the three around. He liked how much his son smiled at them.</p><p>It had been so long, since the last he saw Wilbur smile like that.</p><p>The other had sneered at him when Phil entered the button room, expression cruel in a way he had never seen. He wanted to scream. Wilbur had smirked, bloody and crooked, when Phil had plunged the sword through his abdomen, wrapping his son in his burnt and battered wings. He wanted to cry.</p><p>It wasn’t the same.</p><p>Phil couldn’t give a good explanation as to why he didn’t contact Tommy, or Fundy, or Tubbo, after it was all over. He only distantly remembered his own warning shouts about the withers, before his tunnel vision had zeroed back in on Wilbur’s corpse. He had stood away from the conflict, staring at the blood seeping from the body. It wasn’t the first death Phil had seen, and it would hardly be the last, but…</p><p><em>His son.</em> <em>His Wilbur.</em></p><p>Gods, <em> She </em> would be furious at what he had done.</p><p>And then there was a familiar hand on his shoulder, the smell of blood and dust and pine and books. He was led to the beginnings of a shack in the snow. It was freezing and Phil had never been more grateful for the biting chill that knocked him out of his head, trilling gratefully when Techno threw his cloak over him, shielding his wings from the elements.</p><p>Finding out about Tommy’s exile and being put on house arrest not too long after his return to L’Manberg sparked something in him. An angry, twisted thing that only grew when he saw his friend in a cage with an anvil dangling above him, a public execution. Phil hadn’t been there for Schlatt, but Techno had confessed to him of a similar event taking place, only this time the roles were reversed.</p><p>It really shouldn’t have been as much of a surprise that he would join in the destruction of L’Manberg. Wilbur had been right in his want to demolish it, the place was corrupt. It had to be done. Even if the little boy that he had picked up in the ruins was on the other side. Even if he couldn’t get Ghostbur’s echoing cries of anguish out of his head, overlapping with an argument from another life, another home.</p><p>(<em> “I don’t want to listen! I don’t want to hear what you have to say!”)</em></p><p>
  <em>(“Shut up! I don’t want to hear your excuses!”) </em>
</p><p>When he ran into Tommy whilst looking for Ranboo in the aftermath, he had expected yelling, maybe a crossbow pointed at him or a sword swinging for his head. Not this. Not the quiet, melancholy way the boy sat at the cliff's edge, not even looking up from where his gaze rested on the bedrock far below as Phil passed by. Phil wasn’t sure if it was the unnatural silence or the dangerous way Tommy swayed where he sat that caused him to stop, turning around to face the boy.</p><p>“What are you doing?” The question came out harsher than Phil had intended but he couldn’t take it back now. (He violently shoved away the memories that came with that one simple sentence.)</p><p>“Why do you want to know?” Tommy snapped, “Gonna kill me, Philza Minecraft?”</p><p>Phil sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No. Just figured everyone would’ve cleared out by now once they realized L’Manberg is a lost cause.”</p><p>Something in the boy seemed to snap at that and he jumped up from where he was sitting. Phil could see the red spot on the calf of his pants growing at the movement, even as the wound on Tommy’s forehead bled steadily.</p><p>“<em>L’Manberg was never a-</em>” The boy stopped, choking on his words and breathing heavily. He shook his head after a moment, and Phil watched in a sort of silent unease as the fight seemed to drain out of Tommy. He looked up at the winged man, disgust heavily present in his eyes, “Y’know what, Philza? Fuck you, I’m done.”</p><p>The teen was gone before Phil could think of anything more to say. He wasn’t sure if it would have made a difference, anyway, he had never been very good at talking Tommy down.</p><p>(Briefly, he thought of Wilbur, and how his son could always get the younger boy to stop and breathe and calm down. It always amazed him how quick he could get Tommy to listen to him just by singing a tune or making a joke. Something Phil could never seem to get the hang of.)</p><p>The thought of resurrecting Wilbur sent a thrill through him, and his damaged wings shifted restlessly behind him.</p><p>The first attempts had failed, only succeeding in muddying Ghostbur’s connection to the living world and making him disappear entirely. Philza had looked for him, after the shade had fizzled out in front of their eyes, unable to find him even days after the event. He hoped whatever they had done hadn’t screwed up his chances of getting Wilbur back.</p><p>When they finally did bring his son back, Wilbur had been out of it. Quiet and foggy eyed. He seemed like he was looking right through Phil, only giving hums and indistinct mumbles in response to his questions. Eret had finally convinced him to let Wilbur rest in the castle, with the hope that he would be more coherent within the next few days. He had reluctantly agreed and left for Techno’s place, declining the other’s offer of a spare room.</p><p>A part of him yearned to stay near his son, to be there when he next woke. The louder part of his mind somehow knew that wouldn’t be a good idea, that Wilbur most likely wouldn’t want to see him.</p><p>(It wasn’t because Phil had been the one to kill him.)</p><p>Their conversation four days later hadn’t filled the void that had burrowed in his chest since Wilbur’s death. If anything, it carved out an even wider space, leaving him feeling empty. Wilbur had given him a lot to think about.</p><p>And he did, eventually. He put it off as long as he could bear, throwing himself into working around Techno’s cabin, and then surveying a nearby stronghold as a potential hideout. It was going well.</p><p>Up until Ranboo disappeared and Techno had gone off in a huff, in one his moods that he needed to sort out on his own. Phil was left with nothing but his thoughts.</p><p>
  <em> What would She think of him now? </em>
</p><p>A coward, hiding away from problems all his own. He couldn’t even stand to face Wilbur again, no matter how much he wanted to see his son, and he had no idea where Tommy was staying, having not seen the boy since Doomsday. He doubted he could even bring himself to speak with Fundy, or even Tubbo.</p><p>He knew, deep down, that Wilbur was right. He had been away from them for so long, barely ever stopping by to see his kids, so much so that two more had shown up and he had no idea where they even came from, only the half baked stories Wilbur would come up with. (He was sure the other did it just to see his reaction. <em> Really now</em>, a salmon?)</p><p>The thing was, he <em> wanted </em> to be a good father. He thinks he had been, in the beginning. Maybe. And then his adventurous nature had overpowered the soft part of him, demanding new realms and great battles. He still loved his son, had never stopped, but the burning in his chest had gotten too hot, he was boiling from the inside out and he needed to <em> go</em>.</p><p>(He had returned home one night- morning, really. He couldn’t stay for long, he had taken up a job from someone and it needed to be completed. Wilbur was asleep and had stayed that way for the entire hour he was home, the first time in months, and Phil couldn’t find it in himself to wake him, even as he sat at the boy’s bedside for a majority of that time. Whether that was due to how tired Wil looked or the fact that he would be leaving again soon and couldn’t bear to see his son’s disappointed look was up for debate. He had gently combed through the child’s hair, careful not to disturb him, before pressing a kiss to his forehead and exiting the house.)</p><p>The thing was, he didn’t know <em> how </em> to be a good father. He thinks he could have been, once. In his mind’s eye, he saw their former home, him flying high with Wilbur in his arms, him teaching Tommy to sort through his feathers, him dropping off rarer flower seeds because he had heard Tubbo rambling about bees, him leaving books about redstone and advanced building behind because Fundy had seemed so awed when he had told him about TNT duplicators and mob grinders. But those times were so far in his past and he didn’t know how to go back. He didn’t know if he’d be allowed.</p><p>
  <em> He wanted to. </em>
</p><p>Phil didn’t think he’d ever have a family. He’d gone so long with just him, and if someone had tried to tell the younger, wilder version of himself about this, he would’ve laughed in their face. It had been just him, and then him and Techno for so long, and he had been fine with that. But, now that they were back to square one, he didn’t know what to do with the hollow feeling in his lungs.</p><p>He thinks he could be a good father, if he tried. He wanted to try. He wanted to have his family again (he wondered if he ever truly had it in the first place).</p><p>(Techno was part of that, too. And he was so grateful to the piglin hybrid for sticking with him through all those years. He hoped the other didn’t mind how attached Phil had gotten, to consider the other a member of his family.)</p><p>There was a lot to make up for, with all of the boys. Phil knew that. And was willing to do what was needed, to be better.</p><p>He wanted <em> so badly </em> to be better.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I just want c!Phil to realize how shit of a dad he is and do something to fix it</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Admit That You’re Wrong</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Techno and Tommy finally have a talk, just not in a place Techno was expecting.</p><p>(In which we also learn a little bit about Techno’s backstory because I’m obsessed with backstories.)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*WARNING* referenced child abuse and neglect, referenced injuries &amp; death</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Techno remembered being fourteen (and thirteen, and twelve, and all the way back to the concerning age of eight years old) and fighting for money. He remembered bruises that covered nearly every inch of his aching body and waking in the dingy rooms where they were required to set their spawns with new scars and an empty stomach. He remembered dumpster diving in his Overworld form because a human looking child with ratty pink hair is far less intimidating and far more likely to garner pity and scraps of food should he have gotten caught, even as scarred as he is.</p><p>(The voices had been present, even back then, giving him tips on how to fight and hide and warning him of incoming threats. He used to wonder how these voices in his head seemed to know things he didn’t, but decided the headache that came from trying to figure it out wasn’t worth it.)</p><p>He remembered being fourteen and meeting a man with dark wings and a golden halo of hair that reached just past his chin. He doesn’t remember if the man had come to watch the show or participate in it, he doesn’t think he ever asked.</p><p>His name was Philza (it was awfully awfully familiar but he couldn’t remember why) and he offered to buy Techno lunch, which he had declined despite the sharp pains in his stomach. Trust had never come easy to him, especially not when strange old men offer him food for no reason. Even if the voices whisper excitedly about the man’s wings as he bid Techno goodbye and flies off further into the city, dipping down to land and disappearing into the crowd.</p><p>(<em>Daedalus</em>, they sang, <em> Protector</em>. Techno vaguely remembered the name from a book about ancient myths he found at the library. It’s fitting, he thought.)</p><p>The man came back every week after that, watching Techno fight and offering him lunch or dinner depending on how long it had taken for him to get knocked out for the day. He refused every time, and Phil only nodded with a smile before leaving. Eventually the man stuck around even after Techno rejects his attempts, hanging around the arena and asking him questions or just talking about his day.</p><p>He learned the man tended to stay exclusively in hardcore worlds, and he was very good at it apparently. He learned the other liked building, and flying (no surprise there), and <em> fighting</em>.</p><p>When Techno finally agreed to eat with the older hybrid, it’s to the promise of a sparring lesson whenever they were both free. One lesson turned into two, turned into three, turned into them meeting almost every day. They don’t fight every time, sometimes just relaxing in the other’s company. And one afternoon, when they were both sprawled out in the grass, exhausted, Phil asks if he would come adventuring with him, away from the fighting and the danger and the fear of going hungry. He was silent for a few moments, contemplative.</p><p>(<em>Protector</em>, the voices crooned again, <em> Friend</em>.)</p><p>“Yes.” Technoblade said.</p><p> </p><hr/><p><br/>He found Theseus in the forest between the SMP and Pogtopia. It was drizzling and the clouds in the distance are dark and heavy, promising a bigger storm in the near future. The child was wearing his normal attire with the addition of a borrowed coat, a deep maroon with shiny golden buttons, that completely swamped his lean figure.</p><p>(The voices laughed rudely, and Techno picks up the words <em> Monarch </em> and <em> regret </em> and not much else.)</p><p>He could pinpoint the exact moment that Theseus notices his presence because the kid freezes in place, thin hands gripping the red fabric of the jacket tight against his chest as if to shield himself from the cold and an attack. If he hadn’t seen the way the younger had become more cautious and jumpy during his time at the cabin, Techno might’ve laughed at the action, or thrown out a cutting remark. But he was not trying to start a fight, and so he says nothing, instead offering a sharp nod and stepping to the side, giving the other a wide berth to walk around him. If he didn’t think he’d get a swift punch to the jaw or instigate a screaming match, he would’ve asked why Theseus was even going anywhere near the direction of Pogtopia, knowing the boy hated the place with a passion reserved for few other things (a smiling mask paired with a green cloak comes to mind).</p><p>Theseus breezed right by him, only looking back when his own footsteps echo behind the teen. His actions earned nothing but a raised eyebrow and Techno was led to a small, but well hidden, flower filled area. The flowers were clearly hand-planted as there were several that don’t spawn naturally in their current biome, and there was a stone partially sticking out of the dirt with something carved into it.</p><p>It was a grave, Techno realizes suddenly. It was Wilbur’s grave.</p><p>Except Wilbur was alive and well now, forcefully pulled back to the land of the living whether he had wanted it or not. So he doesn’t understand why Theseus is here. Why would he visit the burial site of a man who was still breathing?</p><p>Techno had so many questions but he took one look at Theseus’ expression and decided now is not the time. The boy was knelt in front of the headstone now, and Techno moved to sit next to him, leaving enough space so he doesn’t accidentally knock into the kid. He closed his eyes and relished in the stillness, even the voices are quiet (he found this odd because they were usually so much louder when Theseus was around).</p><p>“He never had a funeral, did you know?” Theseus asked, breaking the silence. He assumed this was a rhetorical question and Techno doesn’t answer, opening his eyes to glance at the younger, whose focus never left the grave. “We had an entire memorial for the fucking dictator but not one for the man who founded the goddamn country we worked so hard for.”</p><p>“He did set off TNT right under everyone’s feet,” Techno said, though not unkindly. It was a statement of fact, not a jab at the past and he was relieved that Theseus seemed to take it as such, voice remaining at a normal volume.</p><p>“And Schlatt exiled us, raised Niki’s taxes because she hated him, and had Tubbo decorate for his fucking execution.”</p><p>And, well, fair enough, he supposed. Techno didn’t really have a good explanation for why they wouldn’t hold some form of remembrance, not one that would satisfy the kid. Perhaps it was just political, he had never really cared to understand the intricacies of whatever was said behind closed doors, only what governments would do when they had far too much power. Maybe they didn’t feel like they had to, what with Ghostbur floating around and acting like nothing was wrong.</p><p>But even Phil had taken the time to mourn. Techno had helped him collect things for a pyre of sorts, just a box with objects from Wilbur’s childhood sat in a boat that they sent into the freezing water. A flaming arrow met it as it drifted in the icy waves, setting it ablaze until there was nothing remaining.</p><p>(<em>Poor little Icarus</em>, some of the voices had murmured, others snarking over the irony of the situation.)</p><p>“I’m not sure what you’re wanting me to say, then.” Techno finally admitted.</p><p>Theseus sighed, running a hand through his hair and ruining the already unsteady braid (Techno ignored the twinge in his chest at the sight, tuning the voices out at their incessant chanting of <em> Technosoft</em>). “I don’t know either. I just…” he trailed off and pulled his legs to his chest, resting his head on his knees. “Losing him like that was awful, and I never understood why no one else other than me, Fundy, Tubbo, and Niki seemed to care. Even Big Q and Jack Manifold got over it pretty quick, and they were all friends at one point. It never made sense to me how they could just move on like that, without doing anything to honor him. And, to make everything worse, Phil was the one to kill him and he didn’t even stick around afterwards, just ran off like he always did.”</p><p>Techno shifted uncomfortably, folding his hands in his lap. That was a conversation for another day, preferably one that didn’t involve him. “Well, at least you’ve got Wilbur back now. He’s… alive.” He’d never been very good at being reassuring, and this conversation was proof of it.</p><p>“That doesn’t mean what happened hurts any less.”</p><p>Yeah, he sucked at comforting people. This wasn’t what he had come here for anyway.</p><p>He cleared his throat, “Why are you telling me all this?”</p><p>Techno really wasn’t equipped to handle this right now, he hadn’t even planned on talking to Theseus yet. The finer details of what he wanted to say and how best to say it without starting another fight hadn’t been fully fledged out, and he lacked what he deemed as the emotional capability to say what he was feeling without prior thinking. That was more Philza’s territory, though currently the other man was more emotionally inept than he was.</p><p>He was startled out of his inner panic by Theseus’ low whisper, the sound nearly lost in the wind.</p><p>“Why did you blow up L’Manberg?”</p><p><em> Fuck</em>, he really wasn’t ready for this conversation, but… he had no choice now.</p><p>Techno sighed and dragged a hand over his face, stopping to rub at his temple where he could feel a headache coming on. “You know why. Governments corrupt people, you saw it with Schlatt and again with Tubbo. We had to get rid of it altogether.”</p><p>“But why did you have to destroy the entire country? Couldn’t you have just got rid of the government itself? Started your anarchy bullshit instead of the presidency and let us keep our home.” The teen was hunched over himself, he could see out of the corner of his eye, fists shaking where they gripped worn out jeans.</p><p>“It’s not that simple, Theseus-”</p><p>“<em>Don’t!</em>” The younger shouted, and Techno startled, hand going to grip the sheathed sword at his hip. “Don’t call me that!”</p><p>Techno blinked slowly at the kid, letting the confusion show on his face. “But that’s your name. You never cared when I called you that before.”</p><p>“That was before,” Theseus snapped.</p><p>“Before what?”</p><p>A pause, and the other fiddled with his coat sleeves, eyes finally trailing away from the shoddy tombstone to look in Techno’s direction.</p><p>“Before the sixteenth.”</p><p>“Why…” He furrowed his brow at the teen, trying to think back to what would’ve changed the others mind about his own name. And then it hit him. Gods he was so damn stupid. </p><p>(<em>He is standing on one side of the drop, an angry snarl across his face and head full of harsh yelling. Theseus stands opposite of him, complexion pale and mouth twisted as he is told the origins of his name. The words are more destructive than the explosion, a warning and a prophecy all mixed into one.</em>)</p><p>“<em>Oh</em>. Oh Thes- <em> Tommy</em>.”</p><p>Tommy sniffled, and he got the sudden urge to punch something. He hadn’t even noticed the kid had started crying.</p><p>(The voices cooed at the display, alternating between the child’s name and odd, jumbled lullabies.)</p><p>“I don’t want to be <em>that</em> Theseus,” the boy was saying, “I don’t want to be a hero.”</p><p>Techno breathed out, and Tommy let out a ragged huff of air.</p><p>“I don’t want to <em> die</em>.”</p><p>He growls, low in his throat, and it makes the child next to him jump. The sound was cut off abruptly and he clenched his teeth. He wants to yell, to hurt something, to punch the ground so hard his knuckles bleed.</p><p>“I shouldn’t have told you any of that,” Techno says instead, “not like that.”</p><p>“You were right though.” The reply is mumbled, so soft he barely hears it, but when he does his chest constricts even more.</p><p>He shakes his head, “Still, I shouldn’t have told you to die. You’re a kid and I-” A harsh breath passes through his lips. “That was fucked up.”</p><p>(<em>Technoswear </em> is repeated in his head like a mantra and he resists the urge to roll his eyes.)</p><p>Tommy is quiet again and he waits for any hint of a reply, but the kid says nothing. His blue eyes are cloudy and they trail along Techno’s cape, almost studying it.</p><p>Techno coughs, catching the teens attention. “I wanted to… apologize.” Tommy’s eyes widen but he continues before the other can say anything. “Not for everything, because I don’t regret everything. But I’ll admit I didn’t exactly handle everything like I probably should’ve. I’m not all that good at talking things out.”</p><p>The kid smiles, a barely there quirk of his lips. “I noticed,” is the muttered reply and Techno grunts dismissively.</p><p>He takes a moment to collect his thoughts, mentally filtering through the half put together speech he’d been working on for the better part of a week. And then he throws it all out the window because, even in his head, the practiced words sound fake and disingenuous.</p><p>He takes a breath-</p><p>(<em>Big blue eyes stare up at him with such adoration that it scares him, the tiny hands that fist his cloak even more so. The voice that calls out his name is high and squeaky, stumbling over syllables in a way that some might consider cute. He looks around -once, twice- and stoops down to scoop the child into his arms, suppressing what could’ve been a smile or a grimace when those same small hands smooth over his snout, unafraid of his rather terrifying appearance. He wonders what the others would think of this, doesn’t quite know how to feel about it himself.</em>)</p><p>-releases it.</p><p>“I’m sorry about Wilbur,” is what comes out of his mouth, and he hears Tommy’s breath hitch. “I know he’s back and all now, but you’re right, that doesn’t make it better. And I may not have been the one to kill him but even I could tell something was off with him near the end, he wasn’t okay.” Tommy had turned away from him, burying his head in his knees, but Techno continued on, “I’m sorry I teamed up with Dream. I may not have known everything that went down during your exile but I could tell something bad had happened.”</p><p>The kid had jumped at the man’s name and was now trembling where he sat, knuckles white from where they gripped his pant legs. Techno considered stopping there, letting the child take a breather and picking up the one-sided conversation later, but he knew if he didn’t finish this now then the both of them would continue to avoid and tip-toe around each other until it all bubbled over like it was doing now.</p><p>“He did something to you.” It wasn’t a question but the way Tommy turned to look at him through his fringe, eyes full of unreleased tears, was answer enough. “I knew that, and I agreed to help him anyway and I shouldn’t have. Philza shouldn’t have either. I was just angry and I thought you were choosing the government over me.”</p><p>Tommy shook his head at that, shoulder length hair flying around wildly. “I wasn’t. I-”</p><p>Techno held up a hand, dropping it with a grimace when the younger flinched. “You don’t have to explain, I understand now. You were choosing Tubbo, not L’Manberg. I get it, he’s your best friend.”</p><p>“He’s my brother.”</p><p>The weight of that sentence didn’t go unnoticed, and Techno nodded solemnly.</p><p>“Of course. But, at the time, I had still considered it a betrayal and I was bitter and I had already planned to destroy L’Manberg. So when Dream offered to help, I just went with it. I shouldn’t have, not with everything he’s done, but I did and that’s on me.” He let that sink in, scanning over Tommy as the kid stared off to the side, lost in thought but still listening. “I won’t apologize for releasing the withers, or blowing up L’Manberg, because I still think it needed to be done, but I am at least sorry you got caught in the middle of it, that any of you kids got stuck in this. And…”</p><p>Another pause and Techno slowly laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder, Tommy’s eyes snapping up and tracking the movement.</p><p>“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for killing Tubbo.” The kid's gaze was on him again but Techno had averted his own eyes, not wanting to see the look on the others face. “Even if I couldn’t think of another way to get out of that situation, that doesn’t make taking away one of his lives okay. I’ll be talking to him later too, if he’ll let me, but I wanted to apologize to you first.”</p><p>“Why?” Tommy whispered and Techno finally looked at him, taking in the fresh wet tracks on his cheeks and the tremble in his frame.</p><p>He carefully reached out again, this time grabbing the collar of the boy’s coat and flipping it open, revealing a shining emerald set in a gold casing pinned to the inside of the jacket.</p><p>(<em>The child had been so excited when had burst through the door of the cabin, grin wider than it had been in a while. He watched as the kid skidded to a stop in front of him, flicking the collar of </em> <strike><em> Wilbur’s </em></strike> <em> his trenchcoat outwards and showing off the green gem that was settled there. He looked up when the door opened again to see a winged figure softly smiling at the boy, the man smirking and handing him a few golden nuggets that he assumed were left over from the making of the pendant. He nodded approvingly to both of them, fiddling with his own gem clasped to his cloak and eyeing the one dangling from his friend's ear.</em>)</p><p>“I know I don’t do well with showing it,” Techno was saying, “but I do care about you, Thes- Tommy.”</p><p>He was aware under normal circumstances, the boy would most likely tease him for that statement, but right now, they were both far too tired for anything but the truth. Besides, Tommy was smiling at him and all Techno could see was the fragile toddler that had giggled in the face of The Blood God and yelled his name with more happiness than anyone ever had before. So caught up in his thoughts, he almost missed the soft confession from the younger.</p><p>“I don’t care if you call me Theseus.”</p><p>Techno furrowed his brow, “But, you said-”</p><p>“I know what I said. But... I never minded if you did it.” Tommy admitted. “Wilbur never called me Theseus, and I hated when Phil would say it, but I was okay with it as long as it was you. I didn’t like that you compared my life to some shit story.” Techno elected to ignore that comment, letting the child rant. “But I never hated the name.”</p><p>“Ok,” Techno murmured, “I’m sorry.”</p><p>“And,” Tommy (<em>Theseus</em>, the voices were happily crooning again, <em> Valiant Theseus.</em>) continued, “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have left you just like that. That was shitty of me, especially after everything you did to help me, but I was… scared.” The admission was surprising, and Techno moved again to squeeze the other’s shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting manner.</p><p>He definitely hadn’t been expecting to have this conversation yet, but he was relieved it had happened. It had gone far better than he could’ve ever hoped.</p><p>“I forgive you, Theseus.”</p><p>Techno said nothing when he felt the kid lean into his side, letting his arm wrap around the younger’s shoulders. He only hummed lowly when noticed Theseus’ eyes had slipped closed, soft puffs of air leaving his mouth as he dozed. Any other day he was sure he would’ve pushed the child away by now, curling his lip in disgust or growling at the invasion of his space, but, for now, he let him rest. Techno had a feeling the other had been missing out on sleep anyway, if the dark circles under the kid’s eyes was anything to go by. He let a deep rumble escape his throat, tucking Theseus further into his chest.</p><p>(Later, he would deny this ever happened, snapping at the voices if they even uttered anything related to him <em>going</em> <em>soft</em>. He was not.)</p><p>Techno stayed there, sitting in front of a walking dead man’s grave, watching over a snoozing child. He supposed this was fine, for now.</p><p>“I hope you can forgive me one day, too.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The title for this in my google docs is Technosoft and I will make sure this fic lives up to that name. Techno in this series is very much the reluctant family friend that won’t admit he’s actually basically part of the family and pretends he doesn’t enjoy their company</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Make amends</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Phil finally owns up and talks to Wilbur</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*WARNING* talk about child neglect, references to Wilbur’s death, blood and injury mention</p><p>listen ok, I just want good dad c!Philza content and I will have it eventually</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Why are you here, Phil?”</p><p>A good question. What the hell was he doing here?</p><p>Phil had been at Techno’s, alone, sorting their storage for the third time in two weeks. It was something to keep his hands busy as he attempted to settle the fire in his bones that begged him to do something, <em> anything</em>, other than sit still. The feeling had gotten more manageable in recent years, easier to temporarily satiate with small tasks and long walks, but he still burned.</p><p>His hands had started to shake halfway through the chore when he pulled out a bundle of blue cloths, all of varying shades and fraying at the edges. They were from Ghostbur, he knew, before the resurrection and before the spirit had disappeared. He was very aware the shadow had not been his son, not entirely, but he reminded him so much of a younger Wilbur, the one that would smile so wide with gaps in his teeth and follow his father around like a fledgling. Of course, Wilbur had no wings, was not a hybrid at all, but he was still his child. His little musician.</p><p>Wil had loved music, had practically begged his father for a guitar and had smiled with such bliss when Phil finally came home with one in his grasp. The hug that Phil had found himself in that day was one of the best he had ever received, full of love and gratitude and <em> happiness</em>. He missed when Wilbur would sit in the living room or out in the fields while his father worked and fiddled with the instrument, strumming random cords and making up songs on the spot. His son was a natural and he knew even the folk in the village loved to hear him play.</p><p>At the unbidden memories, Phil’s fingers had gripped the scraps of fabric in his hands so tight he thought he might rip through it, and brought them to his chest. Those days had long since passed and he really only had himself to blame.</p><p><em> Right</em>, he thinks as he remembers where he is and who he is standing in front of, <em> that’s why</em>.</p><p>He vaguely hears the crackling squawk of a crow behind him and resists the urge to snap at the bird, keenly aware that the creature was laughing at him. He wished the damn things would stop following him for once.</p><p>“Philza?” Eret prods again, voice gentle and warm despite their stiff posture.</p><p>The wind picks up then and ruffles his feathers and Phil pulls his damaged wings closer to himself, unconsciously bringing up a trembling hand to smooth over the appendages. “I want to speak with Wil.”</p><p>The Royal shifts, and Phil really wishes he could see the other’s eyes to know what they are thinking but the dark sunglasses only reflect his own red rimmed eyes back at him. It had been so long since he’d slept properly and he’d cried nearly as much in the past few weeks as he had when Wilbur had died. Except this time instead of mourning his son, he was mourning all of the lost time that could’ve been spent with his little boy. (<em>His own godsdamn fault.</em>)</p><p>“I don’t know if that would be a good idea,” the voice of the Royal finally said. “Not if it’s going to end up like last time.”</p><p>Phil winced and, alright, that was fair. His last talk (<strike>argument</strike>) with Wilbur had been a clusterfuck, but it had, at the very least, knocked some much needed sense into him. He had needed to hear how much he had fucked up with his son, and with Tommy (and wasn’t it telling that he couldn’t even give the younger boy that same title? he couldn’t even remember the child ever calling him <em> dad</em>, but he’d seen the way Wil had looked at the kid like he was his entire world).</p><p>“I know,” Phil grit out, ink colored wings twitched where they sat rigid against his back. “I want to actually talk this time. I need to apologize.” He put a hand to his head, rubbing at his aching temple and locking eyes with Eret’s shielded ones. “Please.”</p><p>The other was silent, contemplative, and Phil held their gaze. He could feel them assessing him and, after a moment, the Royal nodded, seeming to find whatever it was they were looking for.</p><p>“I’ll talk with Wilbur about meeting with you, but I do ask that you leave the premises until he decides whether or not he actually wants to speak with you.”</p><p>Phil’s wings dropped from their tense position and he leg out a tense breath. “Ok,” he sighed, “thank you.”</p><p>He left then, walking briskly away from the castle, only feeling slightly better after the encounter. There was still the matter of if his son would want anything to do with him but the fact that there was still a chance eased some of his tension. Without thinking, he found his way to the crater of L’Manberg, now covered in glass and locking in the destruction as well as the thick red vines that twisted their way through the earth down below. He briefly wondered when they would be getting rid of those, they were quite unsightly.</p><p>Laughter across the way catches his attention and he looks up to see three figures walking along the patchwork path. Phil watches as three of the Server’s children playfully shout and bump into each other, their voices not quite carrying enough for him to understand what they are saying. He is unsurprised to see Ranboo with Tommy and Tubbo, vaguely remembers Techno mentioning the kid had been hanging around the mainlands more since he had left the Arctic, but it still sends a dull <em> something </em> through his chest, seeing the kids being… <em> kids</em>. They have not noticed him and Phil bites his tongue to keep from calling out, instead keeping his eyes on them until they fade from view, disappearing to wherever it is they’ve been staying. He doesn’t want to interrupt their fun.</p><p>(A part of him is aware that his presence would do more than just <em> interrupt </em> anything, would probably send them into a fit of anger or panic. Normally he would tell himself that he is just exaggerating and overthinking, but he knows this is untrue and he knows that if he ever wants to make up for the things he has done that he needs to admit that. He is unlearning a lot of things that he had convinced himself of in order to pretend that he wasn’t a bad father.)</p><p>He is startled out of his musings by a familiar voice calling out his name and he turns to catch his son’s eye, the other standing only a few feet away. Something in his being lurches every time his name falls from Wilbur’s mouth, instead of <em> dad</em>. Ghostbur had called him that, but it hadn’t been the same. Phil couldn’t even remember the last time he had heard uttered at him without in a sincere way.</p><p>(<em>He was a liar, yes he could. His son had whispered it fervently as Phil held him, broken and bleeding, in his arms. Wilbur had cradled his fathers face in one burnt hand and smiled at him through bloodied teeth, the word slipping through haggard breaths as the life left his eyes.</em>)</p><p>“You wanted to talk to me?” His son asked, a rehearsed sort of emotionless tone to it.</p><p>Phil swallowed, fully turning to face the other. “Yes, I did. Though, honestly, I wasn’t expecting you to agree to it so soon.”</p><p>“Well, I’m here now. So spit it out.”</p><p>If Phil hadn’t learned how to pick up on Wilbur’s ques, he would’ve said the man was relaxed, completely uncaring of the situation. But he could see the stiffness in his hands, the way his shoulders seemed like they were carrying some unseen weight and eyes darted around, searching for every possible escape route. Wilbur was nervous, maybe even scared. Phil didn’t know if he wanted to scream or cry.</p><p>He forced his wings to relax, allowing them to droop until they were brushing the ground, open and vulnerable. “I wanted to apologize. For a lot of things, things I should’ve atoned for ages ago.”</p><p>“Why?” Wilbur didn’t move, didn’t let his expression betray what he was thinking.</p><p>“I-”</p><p>“Why now?” The other interrupted before he could even finish. “You never wanted to apologize before, so what changed?”</p><p>That... hurt. But Phil knew he deserved it. His son was right, after all. Phil wasn’t one to admit his mistakes often, too proud and too stubborn to confess to his faults. He supposed that’s where Wilbur got his own headstrong attitude from.</p><p>“I know, I know.” He took in a shuddering breath, “You were right, though. I’ve been a shit father. To you, specifically, because you and I both know I was never a father to Tommy.” The words were bitter in his mouth but they were true. Tommy had never looked at Phil the way he looked at Wilbur, the way Fundy and even Tubbo looked at Wil. (Wilbur was so much better than Phil could ever be, and isn’t that what every parent wanted?)</p><p>Wilbur didn’t say anything, mouth twisting in a way that said he wanted to but couldn’t quite force the words out, so Phil went on.</p><p>“Wil, son, I am so sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me. I’m sorry I left you alone so much when I should’ve been around to take care of you. That was wrong of me in every way and I can’t take it back no matter how much I wish I could. You were so young and I left you <em> alone</em>,” Phil cut off, eyes widening as Wilbur’s face crumpled at his words. The other’s pale complexion was turning red, eyes screwing up and watering like he used to do when he was younger and trying not to cry. Politely, Phil averted his gaze as his son ducked his head, biting back his own sudden wave of emotions. “You didn’t deserve that. I should’ve been around for you and I should’ve been around for Tommy.”</p><p>(He didn’t apologize for killing him, even though he regretted it every day since. Wilbur had asked him, and had told him outright that he, himself didn’t really regret dying. So Phil kept that particular regret to himself.)</p><p>“Why weren’t you?” Wilbur asked then, choked and shaky. “Was it something I did? Were we- Was <em> I </em> not enough?”</p><p>Phil’s wings jerked from their forced relaxation, puffing up and leaning forwards like they were reaching out for his son. His heart ached at the question and a pained sound left his lips, sharp and bird-like. “No! No, no, no.” He shook his head, hair flying around wildly and nearly knocking his bucket hat from his head. “My darling boy, it was never because of you, <em> never</em>. You were- you <em> are </em> one of the best things that ever happened to me. I’m so, <em> so </em> sorry I made you feel anything less than loved and cherished. You’re my son and I’ve failed you, and I’m so sorry for that. You deserved so much more than an absent father and an empty house. And I know I’ve sucked at showing it all these years but I do love you, with every bit of life I have in me, <em> I love you</em>.”</p><p>When Wilbur finally looked up at him, his face was still red and he was still crying, but there was a twitch in his lips. “Must not be a lot left then, because you are very old, Philza Minecraft.”</p><p>The joke was old and so overdone but, against his better judgement, Phil found himself laughing, a harsh sound that forced its way out of his throat. He brought a shaking hand up to wipe away the tears that began to fall, unsure if they were from his laughing fit or something else, and pressing the heel of his hand against his closed eyes. The pressure caused colors to swim in the blackness of his darkened vision but he ignored it. The guffaws quickly devolved into sobs and he forced the broken sounds down, biting his tongue.</p><p>Long arms wrapped around him and his wings automatically curled around the body in front of him, pulling them closer together. Phil allowed his own arms to wrap around his son, bringing a hand up to tangle in Wilbur’s curly hair and pulling the others head down to his shoulder. He turned, pressing a quick kiss to Wilbur’s temple and whispering more apologies and sweet words under his breath. He could feel the fabric on his shoulder getting soaked with tears, his own becoming lost in his son’s hair.</p><p>“I don’t forgive you,” Wilbur said after he collected himself, head still buried in his fathers neck. “I don’t know if I ever will.”</p><p>Phil nodded, continuing to run his fingers through the other’s hair.</p><p>“You need to do more than just say some shit and expect everything to be better. Even I’m still working to be better for Tommy, and Fundy, and Tubbo. I hurt them, and it shows, but so did you.”</p><p>“I know,” Phil whispered.</p><p>“You need to apologize to them, too. You need to prove you’ve changed.”</p><p>“I know.” Another kiss was pressed to his son’s curls. “I will.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I mean this in the nicest way possible but what the absolute fuck even was Fundy’s lore stream?! That was terrifying and I’m even more worried about the casino arc now</p><p>also sorry for any mistakes, this is very hastily edited because I’m tired so I’ll probably go back over this later and fix stuff :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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